


Like Watching The Fire

by thefangirlingdead



Series: It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) - Universe [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 19:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18105221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefangirlingdead/pseuds/thefangirlingdead
Summary: Back in 1968, in the midst of a war-zone, surrounded by blood and smoke and gunfire and death, Dave was never afforded the privilege of seeing Klaus like this - in his element.(AKA, someone on Tumblr prompted Dave getting to see Klaus in some of his more feminine clothes for the first time and I had to write this)





	Like Watching The Fire

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, this fic is a little snippet of my [It's Not Living (If It's Not With You)](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1295501) series. You can definitely read it as a standalone because there isn't much plot to it, but it might make more sense if you read the other parts first. 
> 
> Second, for anyone who has already read the other two parts of the series, HEY remember how I said I might add more to it in the future?? Well, I have absolutely no self control and finished this one today, with a few more little pieces in the works. Apparently I can't get enough of this little fix-it universe. I was also dying to write something from Dave's point of view, so here you go! 
> 
> At one point in this, I mention the music that Klaus is listening to, and in my head he is definitely listening to Purity Ring. The title of this fic in particular is from their song, ["Repetition"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GqB16ahSC6g). Seems like something he might be into.

Back in 1968, in the midst of a war-zone, surrounded by blood and smoke and gunfire and _death_ , Dave was never afforded the privilege of seeing Klaus like this - in his element. So naturally, it only makes sense that he really gets to appreciate it - to take _all_ of Klaus in - fifty years in the future, long after Dave is dead.  

It’s a strange concept to wrap your head around to say the least, but after _dying_ on the battlefield, feeling the agonizing pain of a bullet ripping through your chest and the sound of the man you love more than life itself sobbing over your body screaming your name as you pass, it becomes a little bit easier to accept the fact that time travel and superheroes exist. It’s still strange, and day after day, Dave wonders when he’s going to wake up and realize that this was all a weird, fucked up dream, but it’s fairly easy to come to terms with the fact that Klaus - this wonderful, confusing, paradoxical man that he met in Vietnam of all places - can not only speak to the dead, but can conjure him and make him whole again, even if just for a few hours.

Dave has never been one to believe in the paranormal or supernatural, but well, Klaus leaves no room for doubt.

And still, Dave finds, that’s not the most exciting thing about him.

Sure, it’s remarkable that this man that he fell head over heels for nearly fifty years ago is a time-traveling necromancer with six superpowered siblings (one of whom is _also_ dead), but even more remarkable is Klaus himself. Powers aside, Klaus is the most bizarre, most unconventional man that Dave has ever met, and he absolutely loves him for it. He’s honestly not sure what part of Klaus he loves the most - if it’s the way that he never seems to stop moving, like a live wire, or if it’s the quiet moments in between, the ones that are reserved for moments of silence, alone in his bedroom or sweet, little intimate touches and hushed words with Dave late at night. Maybe it’s the way that Klaus is practically a walking contradiction. He’s guarded and sarcastic, constantly making jokes in light of horrifying, difficult situations, but deep down, he’s just as scared and tortured as everyone else.

Although if he’s being honest, one of Dave’s favorite things about Klaus is the push and pull between his femininity and masculinity. Even in Vietnam, Klaus was never ashamed of or tried to hide who he was. His dark, kohl lined eyes coupled with his military-issued jacket and the slight smirk that graced his features whenever anyone spared him a second glance were proof of just that, but Dave doesn’t get to _fully_ appreciate this part of Klaus until fifty years later, in some alternate universe, long after he is dead and gone and Klaus has managed to resurrect him in some way.

Between stolen moments in the woods, hidden kisses and rushed sexual encounters in public places or shitty motels, Dave thankfully got to see a _lot_ of Klaus back in Vietnam, but he always knew that there was more to him than meets the eye. And _this_ is one of those things.

For a brief moment now, Dave stands, undetected in the doorway of Klaus’ bedroom. He knows that he’s not corporeal right now, that nobody but Klaus (and Ben, although he’s nowhere to be seen) can see him right now, but while Klaus is distracted, sitting in front of a large mirror in his bedroom, Dave takes a moment to study him like he’s never been able to before. It’s a moment of peace and quiet between training and scheming, and seems to be taking full advantage of it as he sits quietly by himself, lining his eyes with dark eyeliner, soft, electric music filtering through his stereo speakers. It’s a newer artist playing, definitely not one that Dave recognizes from his lifetime, but a song that is familiar to him now, thanks to Klaus.

(Klaus, who has a habit of becoming completely fixated on an artist, listening to their entire discography for weeks on end before moving onto the next. That’s something else that Dave has learned about him over his past few months in 2019. It’s just another reason to love him - he’s an all or nothing type of person.)

Dave can see, in the mirror, the outfit that Klaus is wearing, and it’s like nothing he’s ever seen before. Klaus is a man of many surprises, and his wardrobe is certainly one of them, as Dave has come to learn. One day, he’ll will be dressed down in ripped skinny jeans, a loose fitting band t-shirt and his well-worn chuck taylors, and the next, he’s stealing some frilly, too-small top from Allison’s closet and shimmying into those leather pants that Dave has grown to know and love. Today’s outfit, as Dave can see in the mirror, consists of a thin mesh top that cuts off nicely just below his ribs and leaves little to the imagination, coupled with his signature (as Dave has learned) penny lane coat and… and a dark, flowy skirt. With the way that Klaus sits with his legs criss-crossed on his seat, the soft-looking fabric of the skirt falls around him elegantly, and Dave wants nothing more than to reach out and touch.

It’s not the first time that Dave has seen Klaus wear a skirt, but it’s the outfit as a whole that has Dave pausing in the doorway, drinking in every inch of Klaus that he can, even as he sits slightly hunched, in front of his mirror. It’s also not the first time that Dave has been taken aback by Klaus’ beauty, by his effortless ability to just _be himself_ because _fuck everyone else_ , but it still hits him like a truck each and every time. He’s in love with the man in front of him, each and every part of him, and he’s grateful for every second that he gets to spend with him, dead or alive.

“You like what’cha see?” Klaus breaks the silence and cuts through Dave’s thoughts unexpectedly, a smirk falling on his lips. He pauses his actions, and when he glances up to meet Dave’s eyes in the mirror, it’s with dark-lined, wide hazel eyes. The sight takes Dave’s breath away. You know, if he were actually breathing.

“You -” Dave swallows, taking a step into the room, closer to Klaus, “You look stunning, Klaus.”

Klaus hums in response, setting his eyeliner down and turning in his seat to properly face Dave. Now, his legs hang over the seat, the skirt falling down just below his knees. It sways slightly when he kicks his feet back and forth, and Dave can’t help the way his eyes trail down Klaus’ body in response, all the way to his sparkling, painted toenails.

 _Fuck_ , he loves every piece of him.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Klaus murmurs in response, standing, and _shit_ , had Dave said that part out loud?

Klaus is surprisingly graceful as he crosses his dimly lit bedroom, hips swaying as he walks, the skirt billowing around his legs. “What do you think?” he asks before Dave has the chance to say anything else, “Allison picked this one out. Said it suited me.”

“It does,” Dave argrees, taking another step forward. His hands hover, as if to touch Klaus’ hips, but he knows he’ll pass right through him, so he holds back. The feeling itself is unnerving, to say the least. Then, before Dave can stop himself, he’s murmuring, _“Everything_ suits you.”

Klaus whistles in response, his eyes lighting up. “Good answer,” he retorts playfully, then turns, leading Dave towards his bed. “Because there are a few more pieces we picked up today and you _have_ to see them.”

Dave chuckles in response, but he humors Klaus - as he always does - and watches as the other man pulls a few more articles of clothing from a bag, muttering, “You know, when we go back and _save the world_ or whatever, they better let me pack some bags, cause I’m not leaving this shit here.” He haphazardly tosses articles of clothing onto his bed - a few more tiny crop-tops, some loose-fitting v-necks, a striped sweater, a few pairs of jeans and another skirt, still black, but much shorter than the one that Klaus is wearing right now. When Klaus lays _that_ particular item of clothing out on the bed, Dave subconsciously reaches out to touch it, and Klaus shoots him a grin.

 _“Oh_ , you like that one?” he asks, his voice taking on a whole new tone. There’s a teasing hint to it, but underneath, something a bit lustful, excited.

Dave glances up at Klaus and offers and unassuming smile. “I’m sure it’ll look great on you.”

And at that, Klaus is clapping his hands together. “Well, you’re in luck, because I’m feeling up for a fashion show!”

In a flash, Klaus is closing his bedroom door before crossing the room again, shucking off his coat, and grabbing the smaller skirt from its place on his bed. He then shoo’s Dave away with his hands, a smile playing at his lips. “Alright, gentleman, avert your eyes, come on, don’t look while I change!”

Dave chuckles, but compiles, turning around _and_ closing his eyes while Klaus presumably shimmies out of one skirt and into another. It doesn't take long, and after a few moments, Klaus is calling out a soft, “Alright, you can look.”

Dave wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting when he laid eyes on Klaus again, but he should have known that it would be the picture of perfection staring back at him. Now, Klaus stands in front of him, all lanky limbs and slim waist, his arms outstretched slightly, palms up, displaying the thick black “HELLO” and “GOODBYE” tattooed on each hand. Dave takes in every little inch of him, from his long legs and bony knees to his flat stomach and sharp hips, from strong shoulders - shoulders that Dave had leaned on many times for support during the war - to his muscular, tattooed arms, kohl-lined eyes and dark, messy hair.

The skirt is a perfect fit on Klaus, dark, soft and flowy like the first, but cuts off just above his knees, accented by little bits of lace. It’s elegant, dark and sexy, and although it looks a little mismatched with the mesh top that still covers half of Klaus’ torso, it looks _perfect_ on him. Of fucking course it does. What doesn’t?

“Klaus…” Dave breathes, unsure of what to say. There are no words, really. Nothing could properly describe the way he feels about Klaus, regardless of what he’s wearing.

Dave has grown accustomed to the electric feeling that fills him, shooting through his bones like lightning when Klaus is able to make his body tangible, so when he feels it now, he’s quick to step forward. Wordlessly, Dave reaches out, his hands coming to rest solid on Klaus’ hips, his thumbs brushing the exposed skin between the skirt and his top, fingers inching around his slim waist.

Then, they’re kissing.

Dave will never tire of this, either. Of the gentle press of Klaus’ lips whenever they first kiss, the tentative feel of his hands on his face, carding through his hair, as if he’s unsure if Dave is real or if he’s going to disappear again. Surprisingly, that touch, that hesitance, is not a new thing. Dave witnessed flashes of it back in Vietnam, during some of their more intimate, emotionally charged encounters. Even back then, Klaus looked at him and touched him like he was afraid he’d disappear if he wasn’t paying attention.

But even now, those touches are fleeting and far between. Before long, the kiss deepens, and then Klaus is all over him, bodies pressed flush together, hands in his hair, gripping the back of his neck. Before long, the kiss turns into something heady and needy and all too much, and when Klaus pulls away, it’s with flushed cheeks and a sly little smirk settling on his lips.

Before Dave’s mouth can even catch up with his brain, Klaus is speaking. “Well _shit_ Dave, if I knew that a little makeup and some frilly skirts would get you _this_ worked up, I would have done this a long time ago.”

 _It’s not just the outfit, it’s you_ , Dave wants to say. Instead, though, he smiles and teases back, “Yeah… I wonder what the rest of our squad would have thought of it.”

Klaus throws his head back, laughing. “They already thought I was weird as fuck,” he retorts, “Surely this wouldn’t have made much of a difference.”

Dave huffs a soft laugh of his own, but before he can get another word out, Klaus is leaning forward, kissing him again. This one is different from the last - slow and sensual - and it has Dave’s arms winding around Klaus’ middle, pulling him close again. This time, when they part, Klaus hums, murmuring, “I mean, unless you just wanted me all to yourself.”

“You know I do,” Dave replies, voice just barely above a whisper

Something like lust flashes in Klaus’ eyes before he reels himself in enough to mutter, “Well then do I have good news for you… Also, you should see my closet. _Skirts for days, Dave.”_

With a fond smile, Dave shakes his head. Even now, pressed against him, Klaus has to find a way to make things just a bit ridiculous. Hell, he wouldn’t be _Klaus_ if he didn’t.

“You’re too much,” Dave offers.

“And you love it,” Klaus counters, cocking his head to the side, as if in a challenge.

And Dave doesn’t have to tell him that _yeah, he does_. Klaus knows.

Instead, he reaches forward, taking Klaus’ face in his hands, and kisses him again. And _this time_ , the kiss doesn’t end. Or well, it does, but only once Klaus has backed Dave up against his bed and pushes with his palms flat on his chest until he’s toppling over onto the mattress. And even then, they’re only apart for a few brief moments before Klaus is climbing over him, straddling his hips in _that fucking skirt_ , wiggling his own before shooting him another little smirk.

“Good?” Klaus asks, to which Dave almost actually laughs.

He reaches up, one hand finding Klaus’ waist, the other brushing a stray curl from his face. “Do you even have to ask?” he murmurs, voice thick, _“Fuck_. Yeah. Yeah, this is more than good.”

Rather than responding with some sort of witty comment, Klaus leans down again at that, kissing Dave once more, hands finding their place in his hair again. And Dave loves Klaus in every which way, but this one is certainly his favorite, at least right now, because Klaus is purely and truly himself in this moment, mesh top, makeup, skirt, overconfidence and all. Dave can feel Klaus smiling against him as they kiss, and that only has him pulling Klaus closer, kissing him deeper because _fuck_ , if he only exists to make Klaus smile like this until the end of his days, until they can _finally_ be together again, once and for all, then that’s okay.

As they kiss, Dave’s hands move, fingers skating down Klaus’ sensitive body until they come to rest on his thighs, just below the hem of the black, lacy skirt. Fingers tease the fabric, just barely, and Klaus shifts his hips, inviting. He doesn’t say anything, even as they part, even as he mouths at Dave’s jaw, then his neck, but he doesn’t need to. Dave gets the hint and slides his hands up, just barely, bunching the fabric up and around Klaus’ hips, fingers dancing across his thighs.

But, before he has a chance to touch too much, Klaus is moving. He shifts, pulling back slightly, hands on Dave’s shoulders, then his chest, then he's pulling at his t-shirt, rucking it up his stomach. And _fuck_ , so much has changed since their first time together, even since their first time together in _this_ world. When Klaus glances up at Dave, he’s focused, in the moment. Even back in Vietnam, sometimes Klaus would look far away, as if he wasn’t all there, but now, _now_ Dave knows that he has Klaus - _all of him._

As Klaus moves, so do Dave’s hands, attempting to maintain as much contact with the other man as possible. Even as Klaus kisses down his bare stomach, even as he slides to his knees on the floor and presses his cheek to Dave’s hip, taking a deep breath, Dave’s hands never leave Klaus’ body - his back, his shoulders, arms, hands, hair. He brushes a thumb across Klaus’ cheek in a quiet, tender moment, and Klaus turns his head, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“You good?” Dave asks, gazing down at where Klaus sits between his legs, hands splayed across his hips.

“Yeah,” Klaus sighs, shooting him a lazy smile before turning to press a kiss to his hip, _“Yeah_ , I’m really good.”

Then, Klaus is moving again, nimble fingers unbuttoning and unzipping Dave’s fly. He doesn’t immediately move to pull his pants down, instead, taking his time to tease, dave, fingers skirting around the hem, tickling skin and grazing over his groin. Dave sucks in a sharp breath at the slightest touch, and Klaus smiles again. This time, he doesn’t look up to Dave for reassurance or to talk shit, but instead, presses a kiss to the hard outline of his cock through his jeans.

When Klaus _does_ begin to pull at Dave’s pants, trying to shimmy them down and off, Dave lifts his hips in assistance. And _still_ his hands never leave Klaus’ body.

Klaus moves fast and efficiently, but never rushed, and before long, Dave is naked from the waist down, pants and underwear pulled off in one swift motion. He’s already hard, which he’d normally be embarrassed about because Klaus has barely even touched him, but it’s _Klaus_ and he honestly can’t bring himself to care. Not when Klaus is leaning down, peppering kisses to his stomach and hips before finally, taking his cock in his hand and even kissing down his shaft as well. Dave gasps at the contact, hips canting up, and Klaus simply moves along with him. He doesn’t attempt to hold Dave down or still him, but instead, continues his movements, pumping Dave’s cock a couple of times as he drags his lips up his length.

And _god,_ Klaus has barely even touched him yet, but Dave feels like coming undone, sighing out a soft, “Klaus…”

Before long, Klaus is taking Dave into his mouth, and Dave, who had been sitting up slightly to look at the other man, falls back against the mattress, a stuttering moan falling from his lips. He really _should_ worry about being quiet, because it really isn’t all that late and he _knows_ that Klaus’ siblings are still up, but he can’t help it and doesn’t dare let one of his hands leave the other man’s hair to stifle his sounds, not now. So instead, Dave attempts to keep his vocalizations limited to soft sighs and gasps while Klaus works his mouth over him, swirling his tongue around his tip before swallowing him down to the hilt.

 _“God,_ Klaus,” Dave sighs, almost unaware of the way his voice even sounds right now, completely wrecked in just a matter of minutes, “Your mouth… you feel so good.”

Klaus doesn’t pull off of him to utter some snarky comment in response, as Dave half-expects him to do, either. Instead, he simply hums, throat vibrating slightly around him, and Dave can’t help the way he tugs at Klaus’ hair in response, gasping his name again.

And Dave revels in the sharp intake of breath it earns from Klaus in response. Although he doesn’t always _love_ doing it to the other man, he _knows_ that Klaus gets off on being manhandled. Hair pulling, restraints, dirty talk, choking… the works. And well, if Klaus is going to give him _this_ , then Dave can do that in return for him.

“Klaus…” Dave groans, a warning tone to his voice, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna - _fuck_ , I’m gonna come.”

 _Finally_ , at that, Klaus pulls off of him, sitting up slightly to meet Dave’s gaze and _fuck_ if it’s the most obscene thing that Dave has ever seen. Klaus looks utterly _wrecked_ despite the fact that he hasn’t even been touched yet. His lips are parted, red swollen, cheeks ruddy and eyes watery… his hair sticking up in all places, thanks to the way that Dave had been tugging at it. And he looks absolutely _blissful._

“Then do it,” he murmurs, voice low. He pumps Dave’s cock a couple of times, as if to prove a point, “Come down my throat. Wanna taste you.”

Dave doesn’t have to be told twice.

When Klaus takes him back into his mouth again, Dave has regained a semblance of self-control, but it still doesn’t take long before he’s thrusting his hips up, gasping at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressing at the back of Klaus’ throat. It doesn’t take long before he’s gasping out a quiet, _“Fuck, fuck Klaus,”_ as he comes in hot spurts down his throat.

And _fuck_ if it isn’t the hottest thing that Dave has ever seen, when Klaus swallows around his cock before he comes up for air, the last few drops spattering across his lips and chin. For a moment, time seems to stand still as Klaus takes a couple of deep breaths, gathering himself, and one of Dave’s hands slides down from his hair, thumb gently brushing his cheek. Klaus leans into the touch again, eyes fluttering closed for just a few moments.

“Come here,” Dave is the one to break the silence at last, his voice soft, raspy.

And thankfully, Klaus is quick to move, standing from his place on the floor to join Dave on the bed once more. “Think you can go again?” he asks, a rough, teasing tone to his otherwise generally soft voice.

“Fuck,” Dave mutters, a laugh bubbling up in his chest. Leave it to Klaus to ask something like that in the afterglow. “Yeah, _yeah,_ come here,” he repeats.

Then, Klaus is swinging his legs back over Dave’s hips, a smirk settling on his lips. Again, Dave’s hands find Klaus’ thighs.

“Do ghosts have a refractory period?” Klaus muses, even as he dips down for a kiss.

 _This time,_ Dave can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous, perfect, paradoxical man in his lap. Yeah, Klaus is in his element here, and Dave absolutely loves it. He loves every little bit of him.


End file.
